Information Goodreads: Mighty JackSeries: Mighty Jack #1Source: LibraryPublished: 2016 Summary Jack is not looking forward to an exciting summer. His mom is working two jobs and he will have to stay home to care for his sister Maddy, who never talks. Then, one day, Maddy and Jack trade their mother’s car for a box of […]
Mighty Jack by Ben Hatke — Pages Unbound | Book Reviews & Discussions
I posted a piece about my Faith Mercury last year but it bears repeating because it still brings me so much pleasure to play.
We have all been spending more time at home and may continue to do so, so it’s a good time to learn something new — like playing guitar.
This is an all solid wood parlour guitar, spruce top, trembesi back and sides, so it’s a bit more expensive. Mercurys, like all the Faith models, come in a variety of versions. The cheapest is the ‘naked‘ version, with solid mahogany back and sides and matt finish solid spruce top.
Mercurys are easy to hold and play, perfect for kids, or for anyone to learn the guitar. It’s also great for doodling on the settee, all thanks to its smaller size, scale and 12th fret neck join.
Ideal for women especially, in my opinion, because historically this is pretty much exactly like the kind of guitar ladies used to play in their parlours!
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
copyright Francis Barker 2020
Heat
When stepping off the ship, heat
hit him,
something heavy and palpable, his duty drawn
out into an exile
stuffing the bank accounts
of far-off millionaires, stuffing
him and the natives from Melbourne
to Manitoba.
Such a relief to be on the train,
officers hankering in rigid
silence for the cool heights of Shimla,
Home Counties in miniature once bleeding
the big world dry, where spinsters
of Little England began to
watch their gingham fade
He favoured his mother’s
side, whose pale skin and eyes were
more fondly remembered
than appreciated, now more than
a world away,
spattered freckles on his face
where the sweat ran
free in that searing carriage;
sights of displaced women
wrapping up in their shawls, children
standing and sitting, staring
and sleeping, heading on to homes they’d
never seen (or ever see), leaving him
to watch the scorched earth slide
by like some weary sentence,
his mind hanging on
to the boney cattle half
hidden in mud, in the channels
of sometime rivers
gaping for monsoon
poem © copyright df barker 2012
Ciscography 